it just keeps coming

lots of snowy stems so far this year. but snow is what is happening. so snow you get. another 12 inches the past two days. i am not getting out past my own yard much. so far today, we are still snowed in and waiting for the plow guy to come. i am not complaining–it’s is pretty, pretty, pretty out there. and being housebound for a few days suits my ambivert soul just fine. today, my husband brought me a wonderful STILL-worthy gift from his walk up the driveway, so hopefully tomorrow you will get a reprieve from all this snow and ice.

living in a snow globe

we are living in a snow globe up here in the north. another 6 inches of snow today and more falling as i type. i just googled “snow in the twin cities” and i see that we already have 74% higher snowfall than the historical average. normally, januray in minnesota is the coldest time of the year, and because of the intense cold, the air is far too dry to create precipitation. i suppose as the globe warms up, our winters here will be less cold, but snowier. this may well be our new normal. from a  personal perspective, the two choices are on par—colder or snowier? they both present their own pros and cons. but from a global perspective, the choice is clear.

winter tree with hoar frost on bare branches

a stalwart sentinel

i can always count on mullein to stand watch over the winter prairie. growing about 1 ½ meters high each summer, they let me know with a glance how deep the snow is. when i walk in winter, they keep me company. i salute as i walk by. i look forward to seeing these friends on my trails. we like each other, it is clear. but there is no need to stop and make idle chit chat. they don’t need reassurance of our mutual affection. i like friends like that.

frost on winter mullein (Verbascum thapsus)

a clean sheet, a fresh start

the whiteness of winter feels appropriate to me in january. to me it feels like a clean sheet of paper. a fresh start. what will i write on this blank page this year? like all the roots and seeds buried under the snow, i too have a lot potential lying dormant. after my son heads off to college in january, and i turn in my manuscript in march…anything could sprout.

a snow covered prairie

word for the year 2023

(oops, sorry for the delayed posting, forgot to update for the year in my wordpress upload.)

simplify. it’s my word for 2023. i know what you are thinking: “oh come on mary jo, that’s too easy for you.” yes, i am a minimalist at heart, and generally keep things pretty simple already. but this coming year will be a step-change for @sjrhoffman and me as our youngest (joseph) is leaving for college in nyc in january and we become official empty nesters. steve and i have talked a lot about what the next year will look like. we both are working on books, and that takes a lot of mental space. and it’s a curious thing, but when i crave mental space i also crave space in all areas of my life—physical, financial, social, psychic. so, this year we will be doing our best to pair down to the essentials. we want the trivial reduced to triviality, so we can make more room for the important. i am looking forward to the challenge.

do you have a word for 2023? i’d love to hear it.

hoar frost on winter branches